


Eat

by BWolf_20



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Loneliness, Prisoner of War, Season nine clip spoiler!, hunger strike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BWolf_20/pseuds/BWolf_20
Summary: Negan has come to the point where he's not eating. Rick tries to figure out why, but Negan's not willing to explain what's really going on with him.





	Eat

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a Season 9 clip featuring Michonne and Negan talking. So, minor spoiler if you don't want to know about the scene. You can find the clip on Youtube if you haven't seen it. I was quickly inspired to write a fic for it before we see the episode that features the clip.

Rick frowned at the small tray of food in the guard’s hand. The Alexandrian had just come up from the cell when he was on his way down to update Negan. It had been the second time he’d noticed a tray of Negan’s food go uneaten. The first time it had sat abandoned on the floor. Rick had thought nothing of it. He didn’t find it strange that Negan might pass up a meal. A man could simply not be hungry one day, particularly a man behind bars, but now that he was seeing it again, it raised a little suspicion. 

“Something up, or is there something happening with Negan’s food that I should be aware of?” he asked the guard. He wouldn’t be surprised to discover some foul play being done where Negan was concerned.

The man just shrugged.

“He wouldn’t eat it. Asked me to take it away before roaches came.”

Rick took another look at the food. It was a simple egg sandwich with a side of apple slices. He recognized the meal for being breakfast. At this point it was time for dinner.

“He hasn’t eaten all day?”

“No sir.”

“Is he sick?”

“He looked fine to me. He just wouldn’t eat.”

Rick took it in and nodded before giving him an appreciative pat on the back.

“Alright. Have the cook fix his dinner, something different, then bring it down. Maybe he’ll be hungry enough now since he hasn’t eaten since this morning.”

The guard nodded and headed off to follow the order. Rick turned to the entrance of the cell with a new form of discussion in mind.

Upon entering, he found the man in his usual position; sitting on his cot and leaning back against the wall in the shadows. 

“Good ol’ Rick. Glad you stopped by. I’ve been missing you,” came the gruff voice. 

Rick gave a huff in response. Lately Negan had fallen on the quiet side with little to say, but there had been days when he did some talking.

Rick settled himself down in the lone chair and waited for Negan to say more. When he didn’t he started, deciding to address the current thought on his mind.

“That why you didn’t eat today? Because you miss me?”

Negan turned his head slightly. It was hard for Rick to see, but he was sure the man had raised a brow at him.

“Noticed huh,” he finally said.

He could sense the man’s sly grin easily. Rick shifted in his chair. He wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Are you sick?”

Negan just chuckled and looked away from him.

“I’m as healthy as I can be for a guy that can’t do shit except sit around all day.”

Rick leaned forward and strained to see past the shadows. He didn’t trust Negan’s word on his own health.

“Come into the light. Let me see.”

The man stiffened and leaned further against the walls.

“I said I’m fine,” he growled. 

There was definitely something in his tone that told him he wasn’t entirely fine. Rick wasn’t sure what to make of it or how to proceed to get the truth out of him. For now, he decided it would be easier to change the subject. He reasoned that it might be nothing more than fatigue.

“Okay,” Rick stated as he leaned back. “About today.”

He fell into a review of life outside the cells. Negan sank against the walls as he listened, or rather half listened as his stomach gave an unappreciated growl. He gave a sideways look at Rick to see if he noticed, but the man just rambled on.

**  
Negan grumbled in annoyance as his stomach started to complain again. He wished it would just be still and quiet. It was understandable that his stomach wouldn’t comply since his dinner from the previous night was still sitting on the floor.

Rick hadn’t stuck around to make sure he ate it. Well he certainly wasn’t going to be eating it now, whether he was present or not. His belly gave another desperate rumble in a final attempt to gain sustenance. When Negan refused to do anything about it after a couple of minutes, his belly gave up and fell silent. 

Negan sighed and dropped his head against the wall. It was too quiet now. The only distraction he had was the hunger, but he knew after another hour or so it would die down and he’d be fine.

He looked down at the food again with a grim expression on his face.

**  
“Still not hungry?”

Negan barely glanced at Rick as he responded with a shrug.

“What the hell can I say? I’ve never been a big eater, and that couldn’t be truer now. No goddamn cheeseburgers or greasy-ass pizzas really brings down the appetite.”

Rick gave a shake of his head.

“I find that a little hard to believe with the way you took from the communities. Half of people’s supplies meant that the Saviors were getting a good portion of our food too.”

“I had a lot of men. You know that,” Negan replied bitterly. “Lots of mouths to feed.”

“But you made sure your mouth was fed,” Rick pointed out. “You wouldn’t have been able to lead otherwise.”

The whole conversation was starting to rub Negan the wrong way. It was never fun to get an earful from the bragging sheriff whenever he visited, and now he was starting to remind him of the old life he’d lost. He wished for once that their talks could fall in a more positive, happier direction.

“So fucking what,” he muttered. “I skip a meal or two and you’re all on my ass.”

Rick rose from the chair and approached the bars.

“You’re not eating,” he said seriously, “and I want to know why.”

Negan leaned out of the shadows as he stared the man in the eyes.

“I’m. Not. Hungry,” he enunciated slowly.

For a moment they simply had something of a mini staring contest before Rick rubbed at his brow and looked away.

“Alright. Fine. You won’t eat now, but sooner or later you’ll have to.”

As he turned away, Negan felt a twinge of strong annoyance which only served to lower his mood.

“What the hell difference does it make to you if I chow down or not?”

Rick stopped in his tracks and looked back at him.

“I said I would keep you alive.”

Negan stared back at him as dread twisted in the pit of his stomach. There wasn’t much comfort in hearing that he was being kept alive just to suffer a horrible form of isolation behind bars. Of course he hadn’t wanted to meet his end after getting his throat slashed, but as of late he was starting to wonder if he was so lucky to have kept his life. 

“You know something Rick, I bet you wouldn’t give a shit if I didn’t eat if Carl was still here.”

He wasn’t sure why he decided to bring up the toxic subject. He supposed he was just looking for a fight or anything remotely exciting to break up the monotony that had become his life. Rick’s glare was icy, and there was a slight tremble in his balled fist. 

Negan felt a slight flutter of excitement trying to bubble in his gut, but at the same time there was sorrow since he had liked the kid. 

“I don’t give a shit now,” Rick stated coldly. “And since you don’t know how to shut your mouth about my son, I’ll help you.”

“How so?”

Rick didn’t answer. Instead he turned and left the room. 

**  
Negan found out what Rick’s form of ‘help’ was the next day when he woke to the sound of hammering. He pried his eyes open in time to see a board going up across the window from the outside. Someone already had one board in place, so in a matter of time, he would be cut off from his best source of light.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing!” He crossed the room and tried to peek out of the opening. “Goddamn it stop!”

Whoever was doing it didn’t stop. Ten minutes later, it had become darker in the cell than it normally had, and Negan didn’t like it one bit.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the only change as much later in the day, Rick, along with a couple of guards, entered his miniature space and removed his bed. When they were done, a sandwich was left behind for his lunch. He glowered at the meal and sulked in a corner as his stomach whined.

**  
It was pure isolation now, or at least that was how Negan read it now that he had no light and no bed. Visitors were even rarer now, and whenever someone dropped in to leave him food, it was done silently. Negan had attempted to get some information out of such visitors. Mostly he wanted to know when Rick’s punishment would be over, or when Rick himself would make an appearance, but he never received a response.

Losing track of the days was a lot easier now, and still in all that time he never ate. He could feel his body becoming weaker, and there had been bad headaches that kept him up at night. 

He curled his arms around himself and tried not to let it get to him. That dread that had seeped into him a while ago was only getting stronger. Now that he had plenty of alone time, he was able to examine it for what it really was. 

He cursed under his breath, hating that he was feeling this way. Once he had been this great leader capable of not letting anything get to him, and yet living alone in the shadows was getting to him. 

“Damn it.”

He looked at what he could see of his dinner in the dark. It smelled like chicken soup. Negan bared his teeth and violently kicked it aside, causing the contents to splash against the bars and the bowl to crack.

He couldn’t eat now even if he wanted to. 

**  
“Still not hungry?”

Negan raised his head slowly as Rick suddenly stood before him. He shifted his tired eyes behind the man and noticed that the guards had his bed. 

He started to speak, but was suddenly distracted by an odd sound at his window. A board was moving thanks to someone from the other side, and a minute later, a strong beam of light shown into the gray cell. Negan had to turn away as the sudden light shocked his eyes.

“Jesus,” he muttered gruffly as he covered them.

“Your punishment’s over,” Rick declared. “I’m sure after this you’ll have no trouble keeping your mouth shut about Carl.”

Negan said nothing. He simply rested his head against the wall with his eyes shut as the men entered with his bed. As with any case when the cell door was opened, guns were drawn on him from the people behind Rick. Negan didn’t so much as twitch a muscle to give them an excuse to shoot. Then oddly enough, he wondered if it would be such a bad thing if they shot him. It didn’t matter that his bed was back along with the light, his dismal days would remain the same. He was still discarded in the shadows out of sight.

Once the guards left his cell and the door was locked, Rick moved a chair in place and sat like he usually did.

“I guess the fucking joke’s on me,” said Negan with a slight edge to his tone. “I underestimated you prick.”

“You seem to do that a lot.”

Negan just chuckled softly. Rick dropped his eyes down to the turned over cracked bowl and the dried chicken soup bits on the floor.

“I see we still have an issue here.”

“There’s no issue,” Negan growled. 

“Yes there is. You’re still not eating.” 

Negan didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at Rick.

“You’re going to die.”

Negan turned a sharp eye on him. Of course it was inevitable if he carried on this way, but in his opinion it wouldn’t just be starvation that would do him in.

“I’m…not…hungry,” came the weaker response.

Rick leaned back in his chair, staring back at him with a blank expression. 

“What are you trying to prove with this hunger strike? What do you think you’re going to gain?”

“This isn’t a strike,” Negan muttered. “I’m just...not hungry.”

He wasn’t ready to admit why, especially to Rick of all people. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction that he had truly defeated him.

**  
Michonne wasn’t a visitor Negan expected, and he certainly didn’t expect her to pick up the mantle on trying to get him to eat. She had to remind him that he was among the living, and the living “eats”. Negan’s shoulders slumped as the weight of it fully sunk in. He was tired of going on this way. None of them had figured it out because none of them were in his place. None of them would ever know, unless he confessed.

“You want me to eat. Well I want you to stay and talk to me.” He felt a twist in his gut at the plea. “I mean I’m proof that you’re making civilization right? I mean that’s what your boyfriend said so…hard to be that if I’m dead from starvation.”

“Thought you said you weren’t on strike,” she said.

“I’m not if you stay and talk to me.”

He didn’t feel like he was asking too much. He’d spent a year and a half suffering in loneliness. It was too much now. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it another week in this state, so if someone was able to do this one simple thing, then maybe, maybe, he’d actually be able to get something down and live.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Negan becoming lonely enough to want someone to chat with for a while, particularly since it's Michonne. I really liked the clip and I look forward to seeing more scenes with them together. Here, I thought I'd create an idea of what's been happening with Negan before that moment between them.


End file.
